


The Boy of Shalott

by Kalael



Series: Arthurian AU [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Some Jack backstory from So It Was Foretold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalael/pseuds/Kalael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ruins?”  Kozmotis asks, straightening from his relaxed position on the lakeshore.</p><p>“Yes, of a fortress a bit older than I am.  I can’t imagine what it looks like now, the humans that lived there abandoned it long ago.”</p><p> </p><p>He has no grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy of Shalott

**Author's Note:**

> soooo I listened to Eet by Regina Spektor for this one. Contains casual bastardization of The Lady of Shalott.

Jack knows that somewhere deep within the woods there lies the ruins of an ancient fortress, one that thrived before his time as a Guardian began. A village had existed just outside its walls, the cool gray stone seeming to tower over it. In reality it had probably been a mere fraction of the size of the castle Kozmotis would describe to him with fondness. It had been large enough to hold the armory and the village leader’s family, little else. Jack hardly remembers what the village leader looked like, though sometimes he remembers the spark in the eye of the leader’s daughter whenever Kozmotis gives him a similar look.

These are, of course, mere memories. He cannot leave the lake to see the ruins for himself and he’s not so sure that he wants to. Like the trees that surround the lake, life grows upwards and the roots are the past, best left underground and undisturbed. That village and fortress were long ago abandoned when the fae population began to rise and it became too dangerous to live in a forest with such powerful magic. Both the increase in fae and the powerful magic could be contributed to Jack’s Guardianship and the portal that was the lake. It was just lucky that North had taken the forest under his watchful eye, or else Jack might have been overrun with dangerous creatures of all kinds.

“You seem distracted.” Kozmotis says, breaking Jack from his thoughts. He blinks a few times as though waking from a dream and smiles lazily.

“Why, your stories are so riveting, I don’t know why you’d think that.” For Jack’s sarcasm Kozmotis swats halfheartedly at his shoulder, a childish gesture that Jack returns with a laugh. “I apologize. Your descriptions of the castle, they reminded me of some ruins about a quarter’s day walk away from the lake.”

“Ruins?” Kozmotis asks, straightening from his relaxed position on the lakeshore.

“Yes, of a fortress a bit older than I am. I can’t imagine what it looks like now, the humans that lived there abandoned it long ago.” The words feel like sap sticking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and Jack hides a grimace by looking into the woods. “Somewhere in that direction, maybe.”

“And you know this from the days when you weren’t tied here?” Kozmotis asks tentatively. Jack gives a short nod and the topic is dropped, although Jack notices how Kozmotis glances into the forest from time to time. He tries not to think much of it, and when the day ends, he bids Kozmotis farewell.

The nights are long for someone who can’t sleep. Jack shuts his eyes and imagines the breezes that once carried the scent of fresh bread and roasting meat. His body aches, his mind straying to a place beyond his reach, and he stays inside to listen to the gentle waves that drown out the rest of his memories. Kozmotis probably doesn’t realize it, but he visits when the forest’s magic is at its weakest. It ebbs and flows with the Sea, and at low tide Kozmotis shows up with whatever trinkets he thinks will amuse Jack. So Jack watches the moon change, waiting patiently for the next cycle to bring Kozmotis back.

Of course, just when Jack thinks he has Kozmotis figured out, the man shows up when the tide is high and Jack is floating listlessly over the human side of the sea-- the lake. Kozmotis is a mess, twigs sticking from his already wild hair and some tears in his fine clothes. Jack doesn’t remember being informed of Kozmotis’ entering the forest and he frowns with concern.

“What are you doing here, looking like that? Hardly suitable for a king.” He floats over and plucks leaves from Kozmotis’ hair, ignoring the swatting hands that try to knock him away.

“I was searching for the ruins.” Kozmotis said, his voice taking a slightly irritated tone. Jack freezes, his fingers buried into Kozmotis’ hair. He has half a mind to tug at it, a meaningless and immature gesture. Jack refrains and instead edges away, denying any contact whatsoever. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives what he thinks is his best stoic face. Kozmotis returns the look, and Jack wilts slightly under his gaze.

“Did you find it?” He asks. He hates that his voice becomes fragile. Kozmotis hardly seems to notice.

“I did. I believe they’re the ruins of Shalott, which is fascinating as I’d been lead to believe it was merely a legend.” His expression brightens, wonder apparent on his face. Jack tries to smile, but he doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Legends are often based on some real event or another, I’ve learned. It was called Astalot, though.” Not that it matters. Names change with time, as the people who remembered them fade from existence. Jack is probably the only one who remembers it now. He tries not to let it bother him.

“There’s another legend.” Kozmotis starts slowly. “A song, more like, about a boy who was lost.”

“Plenty of children were lost.” Jack shrugs. “It was a large forest even when Astalot was thriving. I wouldn’t think too much on it, lest you hurt yourself.”

“You believe yourself to be so clever.” Kozmotis murmurs with a roll of his eyes, but he does not attempt to bring the topic back up again until he leaves. Jack is not expecting the song Kozmotis sings to be so familiar, so painfully accurate in pitch and the way it carries through the forest while the young king walks away.

“In the stormy east-wind straining,  
The pale yellow woods were waning,  
The broad stream in his banks complaining,  
Heavily the low sky raining  
Over tower'd Camelot;  
Within the wood a shallow lake  
Beneath a willow lies a grave,  
Below the icy sheet he lay,  
The boy of Shalott.”

He has no grave. But the song rings with his mother’s tune, and Jack hangs his head to weep.


End file.
